For patients, oh, to me impart The gay, the young, the witty; Such as may interest the heart. This prayer, oh grant, in pity! "Allow me to look at them," said Street, as soon as Croker had finished reading. "I think Eliot clever," said Hertford. "What has become of him?" "Oh," replied Amy, "I believe he is going to die he has grown so very dull and heavy. Do you know, I told him a very interesting story one day last week, and he did not at all listen to it; and before I had finished repeating it a second time he fell fast asleep." "Poor fellow!" said Street: he could not stand the second edition. Mr. Graham sat on my left hand, and was as attentive to me as possible. Graham was a beauty; a very Apollo in form, with handsome features, particularly his teeth and eyes; sensible too, and well educated. "I brought you two together, because I knew you would fall in love with each other," said Lowther. "How impossible," thought I, as the stranger in Hyde Park, as I last saw him, or fancied I saw him blush, crossed my mind. I was not disposed to admire anything else, indeed; but I rather think Graham was pedantic. He spoke to me a good deal of Fred Lamb, with whom he had been travelling on the Continent. "Fred Lamb has often been jealous of me," said Graham; "but he would be jealous of any man; yet I have always liked Fred much better than ever he liked me." "His passion for women is so very violent," I observed, "that somehow or other, it disgusted me." "All ladies are not so refined," replied Graham, laughing. "Perhaps not," answered I; "perhaps I may not be so refined when I like my man better." Street was all this time making hard love to Fanny. Poor Street though a very pleasant man, is, as he knows, a very ugly one. Fanny's extreme good nature was always a Refuge for the Destitute. If ever there was a lame, a deaf, a blind, or an ugly man, in our society, Fanny invariably made up to that man immediately, to put him in countenance. Nay, she would, I believe, have made up to the Duke of Devonshire, blind, deaf, absent and all, had he fallen in her way. At this moment, my ear caught the word cruel, as applied to Fanny by Street. "Quite the reverse, Fanny is all goodness," I exclaimed. "Yes," rejoined Street, "as far as words go." "It is you, Mr. Street, who cruelly neglect me, on the contrary," said Fanny, laughing. "Never!" answered Street, laying his hand on his heart. "Then why did you not call at the oilshop?" Fanny asked; alluding to the place where she had formerly been lodging for a short time in Park Street, and to which she had invited Street. "Wounded pride!" observed Street. "She would have poured oil into your wounds," said Lord Hertford. "I'll thank you to pass me another bottle of this bad claret," squeaked out Croker; "for I must be candid enough to say that I like it much." "I wont abuse it again," Lord Hertford observed, "for fear you should get drunk."